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“I will but now ain’t the time or place,” I replied, staring at Kyerra. “Tonight is about Mack, so let’s keep it that way.”
I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Hailo draping her arms around me. The rock on her finger was a dead giveaway, but I knew that touch from anywhere. I’d felt it numerous times over the last few months, and every time my dick reacted with joy because he knew what usually followed.
Hailo leaned across the back of the sofa, whispering in my ear, “Meet me over there in five minutes,” I peeked over my shoulder, grinning and bouncing her eyebrows. I already knew what time it was. As if I didn’t, she slid her hand down my chest, grabbing a handful of my dick before waddling across the club.
Kyerra sucked her teeth, annoyed at the marital bliss between Hailo and me.
“My wife needs me. Excuse me,” I strode across the club where Hailo was seated, wearing a smile as I approached her. “Wassup, Pretty Lady,” I said in between delivering kisses to the crook of her neck.
“You were a ticking time bomb. That’s what’s up. What kind of strippers do you like?” Hailo asked.
“What?”
“You need a pick me up, so what do you like?”
“You’re crazy. You know that?”
“Yeah, about as crazy as your family. Answer the question?”
“Pretty faces.”
“Well, that’s a first. Most men don’t care how she looks if her ass is fat.”
“I’m not most nigga’s. You haven’t learned that yet?”
“I guess not. Gianni Meraux is just full of surprises.”
“I can get sex anywhere. A pretty face helps sell the illusion. That’s about more than sex and the key to getting in my pockets.”
“Thanks for Gianni’s lesson in strip club etiquette.”
“We might have to get one of these after you drop my baby so I can see you up there.”
“You better hope your pockets are deep enough.”
“Shit, I hope so too.”
I could always tell when Hailo was rehearsing her words in her head. Like now, she looked away, picking at any random object she could find. It was the fabric on the sofa we were seated on while she raked her teeth over her top lip.
“She’s pretty,” Hailo finally spoke, watching Kyerra across the club. “What did you love about her?” she finally asked.
“What?”
“What did you love about Kyerra?” She repeated the question slower this time, and I hesitated. Not because I was guilty of shit, I was sensitive to Hailo’s feelings. Explaining what I loved about my ex to my pregnant wife felt like a setup I wasn’t about to partake in. “We both had a life before this, Gi. Just answer the question.”
“She made me happy.”
“That’s not a reason to be in love with someone.”
“Marcel didn’t make you happy?” I challenged, flipping my question back on her.
“At times. Other times not so much, which got me thinking after we broke up.Most of us are led to believe that happiness is a final destination that can be reached if we make the right choices. We’re taught that we'll be satisfied once we finally find it, so we live feeling overwhelmed chasing this unattainable dream. Happiness isn’t a destination. It’s a journey. One that’s never-ending. It’s always going to take work.”
“What are you feeling right now?” I asked, sucked in by her vulnerability. She trusted me enough to share her inner thoughts, so I gave her my undivided attention.
“Content.” She smirked, finally making eye contact again, letting me know she was no longer nervous. “I’m content sitting in the strip club while my Baby Daddy wants to wring his cousin's neck.”
“Not for the reason you think.”
